Mad Apothecarist

“How was school this week?”

“Severus was an ass the whole fucking time – we learned about werewolves, actually. Which skipped half the book, to the other ravens' annoyance. They read only a chapter or three before each class, which is fucking inefficient. I was the only one who knew the answers besides the generally known facts but I’m not talking with Severus until he acts like a normal person.”

“And besides DADA?” Remus smiled softly at his unofficial godson over a cup of tea.

“Nothing interesting I guess.”

“And besides school?”

“Fred has been helping me with finding herbs and mushrooms in the Forbidden Forest – I heard that there are some species of mushrooms there that are quite rare in the rest of the UK. We even used it in some of the experimental stuff I do as a preparation for my master's. I also went with Luna to search for Nargles, but we couldn’t find a mistletoe. She gave me this to guard me against them,” he showed Remus a bracelet with little butterbeer corks used as beads.

“That’s very kind of Miss Lovegood. And how about your preparations for NEWTs? Minerva was praising you during the whole teacher meeting last week.”

“I practised all the needed spells and then some – only DADA gives me an issue. I can’t keep my attention on that shit for more than an hour.”

“I can help if you would like.” Remus tried to wait for the raven to come to him himself but he knew when to give up – friendship with a crazy Black makes one understand that not all battles can be won with patience.

“I train Dueling with Marcus, twins and even got a few hours of training with Percy. His ass might be ripped with that stick he likes so much, but he’s a smart guy.”

“I can teach you some spells that are not expected but appreciated. Patronus, for example.”

“If you wish to – I would never say no. I’m not fucking stupid. Now?” he stood up with a grin and pulled out a simple wand. Remus would take a wild guess and say he had some hidden pocket for the wooden tool – potion master never wears wand holster like a normal wizard, as an exploding potion might ruin magic holding the wand and that never ends up well.

“We can try to start with the basics now – later we can use a boggart. Patronus works on them, to a certain level, so they are often used as ‘training wheels’ for learning Expecto Patronus. Do you know the theory?”

“The caster needs to think about their happiest memory and that gives the spell power. Then magic put into the spell either makes it a mist or a shape of an animal – the more the shapelier. The animal shape itself represents in which the caster finds comfort and safety – so if someone had a dog that always guarded them, their Patronus shall be that dog breed. This is the reason why Patronus is ever-changing, as people’s definition of safety changes.”

“Very good. Ten points to Ravenclaw.”

“I studied for the test,” he shrugged. “How do I know if a memory is happy?” A long look was exchanged between the student and a teacher. “Fuck yourself, cunt. Got it, I need to find out myself.”

“If it helps, after you learn how to cast Patronus, you don’t really need a memory – it’s the feelings you need for it. Memories are just easier to evoke than feelings.”

“Doesn’t that make it dark magic?”

“Partially, but it’s categorized as neutral, grey magic. Try to cast it – and remember, happy thoughts.” Henry’s scars distorted as he furrowed his brow in deep thought. What might someone like him understand under the term ‘a happy memory’, Lupin thought. Would it be a moment of happiness over a finished project? Maybe a win in some competition? Or would it be a memory created with his friends or family, which for sure Henry would never admit to?

Remus enjoyed talking with Henry, even though some of his personality traits hurt his soul. There was so much James in that devious spark in greenish-brown eyes, in the cruel smirk that meant problems. And that fiery red temper, something that had Lily written all over it. He didn’t have her red hair, but he had her strong vocal cords and tendency to repeat a certain word when he got irritated. Lily’s favourite curse word was cunt and her accent always got very cockney – Remus never met her parents but he heard James say that her mother had the same accent and at first he thought she was angry at him.

People often talked about the late Potters as if they were angels or saints, but that was never true. Henry was his parents' child – smart, temperamental and cruel. They would love to see him grown up, even if his scars might make them furious and sad.

A little light came from Henry’s wand. He wasn’t happy. “What is your happy memory, uncle Moony?”

“It’s not very polite to ask people that,” he told his with a soft smile. “But it’s you, so I’ll tell you. I think about nights spent in your parents home when you were slightly under a year old. Your accidental magic was uncommonly strong for a baby, but it never stopped amusing us. You liked to throw your wooden blocks and then made them come back to you. You tried to do the same with baby food, however, the viscous liquid never wanted to go back to its tormentor.”

“Sometimes I wonder why I wasn’t the first dead body on that premise…”

A burst of barking laughter filled the room – Henry pouted lightly, never happy when somebody laughed ‘at’ him. “Trust me, it was adorable.”

“That’s a word I never hear connected to me.”

“I heard some girls talk differently,” Remus grinned widely, showing his sharper-than-common teeth. Henry was too busy doing retching noises to notice that.

“That’s fucking disgusting!”

“I thought you were not the type who says girls have cooties. You are friends with Hermione and Luna – and they are girls.”

“Yeah, but, not like that. Fuck. Who would want the fucking attention of some unknown girls? I hope they are not fucking stalkers...” … or creeps like Lockhart, Henry finished in his own head.

“What was the first happy memory you used if you don’t mind me asking?”

“When I burned a lot of books,” Heir Bundy-Potter grinned madly, his eyes misty and lost in a memory. “I never laughed so much before – my throat hurt after that, but it was worth it.” Remus raised his eyebrow in mute shock, although a little smile still hung on his lips. A small bitter-sweet thought in the back of his mind wondered how did Sirius managed to give his godson the Black madness. “Do you know any other person who can do Patronus and uses better memories than sappy shit?”

“I worry I know too many ‘sappy people’. Happy memories are usually sappy.”

“Fuuuuck you.”

Before Henry even knew someone was nearing the teacher’s quarters, the werewolf in the room was prepared to say come in – and he knew exactly who was going to get nasty looks from the tall thirteen-year-old. “How can I help you, Severus?”

The stoic teacher completely ignored the Potter heir and gave the fellow teacher his monthly ‘cure’. “Don’t forget to take it on an empty stomach,” he growled. He wanted to say something like: ‘Using your celebrity status to get private lessons, Potter?’ But he knew that was just his nasty personality being pissy and angry at himself – why heighten the blood pressure of someone Severus actually liked?

“Why on empty stomach?” Instead of expected screaming or growling, Henry acted like a calm human being – which was scary.

“Some ingredients can react negatively with them,” Severus deadpanned.

“I never heard of a potion that needs to be taken on an empty stomach… what ingredients would cause such a reaction?”

“I believe that would tell you what the potion is and that is a piece of personal information, Mr Bundy.”

“Oh. I thought wolfsbane reacts negatively only with sugar.” Remus grew tense, Severus only smirked. He knew Henry would figure out the secret, especially after that lesson when Severus laid it so thick even Longbottom should figure it out.

“Sugar renders it useless, but only in a bigger capacity. Any type of sugar in a small dosage just makes the potion drinker nauseous.”

“Note for myself: not get bitten. I would die without chocolate!”

“No, you would just sleep more,” snarked Snape with an eye roll.

***

Somebody woke me up with a cruel finger in my cheek – a well-manicured one, sharpened into a fucking point. “Fuck of you fucking cunt,” I moaned in displeasure and batted the offending appendage off.

“It’s time for breakfast, Slytherin heir.” I opened the only eye that had an eyeball in the socket right now – I know that face but no name fits it. She wasn’t younger than me, maybe older or the same age. “Daphne Greengrass,” she pushed her cruel hand into my face so I tried to bite it out of reflex. “Nice to meet you,” she kept her nice tone even though I was chewing her hand like a rabid dog.

“Go fuck yourself,” I said with difficulty. It’s hard to talk with a hand in your mouth. Her face was blank, so I licked her – which made her shriek in disgust. Finally. She’s a tough cookie.

“Likewise, mongrel. I was trying to be nice.”

“I sleep less than eat, but now you have the pleasure to accompany me to the fucking breakfast.” I attempted to make her run in her relatively tall heels, however, she struck like a snake and caught my elbow in a bruising grip. Marie and Fridrich taught me how not to flinch because of this type of manhandling.

“How are you enjoying the new classes?” Her mask was chiselled from ice, but her tone smelled of devilish plans.

“Boooring.” Auch, she should cut her pointy nails. “And you, bitch?”

“Daphne, but you can call me Daph if that’s too much for your little brain.” I stepped on her shoe and grinned when she winced. “I quite enjoy Runes – Arithmancy is interesting but pretty hard.”

“It’s simple math,” I rolled my eyes. “I might be above average in knowledge in that realm, but Hermione too knows most of the mathematical principles used in Arithmancy. What did you learn in the primary?”

“I was homeschooled.”

“By monkeys?”

“No, by magical mentors. And we never did more than simple math that you use in normal day to day life. Could you help me with some things?” So that’s why she was so annoying.

“Hermione would be better, I’m a worse teacher than fucking Severus fucking Snape.”

“Did I ask her or you?” Auch, auch, auch!

“Cut your nails, you fucking cunt! Don’t bitch if you want to kill me by the end.”

“Maybe I wasn’t taught math – but you were obviously robbed of lessons in Etiquette.” I could only cackle at that idea. I can imagine how would a professional snob look at me while I slurped down noodles or drunk soup from the plate.

She forced me to sit at the Slytherin table – almost nobody was in the Great Hall, most of the castle was still in bed or only just getting out. Twins and Hermione should arrive in an hour and nobody knows when Luna’s going to show up. Sometimes she’s up even before me, and other days I drag her out of the bed by the foot.

Daphne put a healthy breakfast on her plate and then made a small hill of typical English breakfast items on a plate that was put in front of me. “OW!” I hissed when she hit my hand.

“What about ‘thank you’?”

“Thanks, mum.” Her mouth twisted into a cruel smile, even if only for just a second or two. What a cunt. At least she let me eat with my usual ‘grace’ (read: none at all). “Why are you bullying me?” I asked after gobbling up half of my breakfast, confident she wouldn’t steal it away.

“You are a good contact in the wizarding world.”

“I’m thirteen years old without a job,” I deadpanned.

“Thirteen years old genius, Boy-Who-Lived, heir Potter and potential heir Slytherin or at least one with their gift. Yes, you are a good contact, and will get only better.”

“So you want to use me. For what?”

“I’m looking for a good partner – in life and business. And I went for the best one before the others realise.” I choked on a piece of bacon and between caughts thought how horrible it would be to die before having the chance to spit on one of my siblings’ graves. She hit my back several times and wrinkled her small nose over my almost-murderer. And half-chewed bacon that landed in front of me.

“Others? Best deal?!”

“Why do you sound so hysterical, oh mighty Slytherin heir?” George sat across me and stole my plate.

“I was barfing in that!”

“You spit it next to the plate,” Fred snorted in humour and sat next to me. “Fred Weasley,” he offered his hand to Daph and she shook it.

“Daphne Greengrass.”

“George Weasley,” the other ginger leaned over the table and did that same gesture. “What did that madman do to deserve such a charming companion?”

“She’s as charming as this fucking madman,” I snorted and kicked her under the table. She scratched my forearm, again. “She just fucking told me she would like me as a fucking partner.” My face crumpled into a hurtful cringe.

“Bethrothals and arranged marriages are common in the wizarding world – and I was given the possibility to pick so I asked. My family owns several potion ingredient shops and most of my family members are Potion Masters. You are interested in potion-making, so that’s only logical you would benefit from that. Potters are on the other hand an old house with ancient roots that my family lacks – and I want to go into politics in my future. The title of Lady Potter would give me a… head start.”

“You’re not even fucking pretty.”

“That’s a lie and you know it,” George snorted. Fucking traitor! And she really isn't.

“She’s blond. And kind of looks like my sisters. Just with a witchy vibe.”

“That’s why George thinks she’s pretty,” Fred grinned. “And she is good looking. Just saying.”

“Fuck you all. You, you, and you especially, cruel bitch.”

“Just think about it – I offer partnership, the others want a husband. You know, with the crotch gremlins and all.”

“I would rather sterilize myself. The muggle way. The bloody way. Without anaesthesia.”

“There is always blood adoption – which would be my preferred way of conceiving an heir.”

“Or I can just off myself, that’s an idea.”

“Or just say no?” That one came from both Fred and George. Then George added: “Good to know that desperation-“

“-or fear-“ Fred added thoughtfully.

“-stops the fucks and bitches.”

“For the most parts.”

While they were doing their 'twin talk', I was headbanging the table, thinking that crying might be a good idea. “We are only thirteen!”

“My mother knew she would marry dad since she was eight years old. It’s a little looser now, but most want to catch the best ‘second half’ they can. I hoped you would be more logical about this.” She was frowning like I did something fucking wrong!

***

Not only was I in a horrible mood the rest of the week, but I connected the shit Daphne dumped on me and information from Remus (that some girls talked about me). Which made me paranoid when female humans talked to me about anything. People who only threw curses at me now smiled into my scarred face and never even batted an eyelash when I called them cunt, bitch, motherfucker or something else along those lines.

“I had the worssst fucking week in quite a while and you have the fucking audacity to make it even worssse you fucking motherfucking cunt?!” I screamed and threw a scalpel at Severus. He found our room, where we now mostly brew – mine and Luna’s dorms are used for the hanging-out portion of our days. (Still a good nap spot, though.)

I had a feeling that brewing outside of class was unadvised but never before had I thought that it was against the rules. Heavy sarcasm on that last part. Oh, and he found out in the worst moment –

“Don’t throw that cauldron-“ Fuck, I missed his head!

“You vanissshed my hard work you motherfucker!”

“You were swaying from side to side! And haven’t reacted at my calling!” His reflexes are good, most wouldn’t expect a rapid change to spells. Flint taught me enough so I know some strategies. Still, I managed to singe his robes.

“Do I look like I care?!” After he pulled out his wand it was a quick ending to our ‘duel’, but I wasn’t done. “Not only do you fuck up my exssperiment, you also fucked up the last few monthsss of my life becaussse of sssome for sssure ssstupid reassson you fucking prick – you act like we were never friendsss and then never even give a reassson why are you ssso – ssstupid, you, you – dunderhead!”

“You’re a CHILD, Henry! I can’t be just friends with you!”

“I’m not the one who forgot that fact, you fucking idiot! It’s your fault you are a fucking idiot!” I screamed back but still kept my magic from lashing out. I wonder why it was easier to not let it do its normal thing. “It’s not my fault I’m smart and arrogant – which is for some reason something only adults can be? Was it the – oh, it was the crying, wasn’t it?! You saw me cry once and since then you notice the fact that I don’t even have a fluff under my fucking nose? That I couldn’t get a drink at a bar, even if I fucking tried?!” The couch that was more often used as a bed almost knocked him down, but he jumped out of its way. (That was the first time my magic slipped out - and it didn't even succeed!)

I stared at him, fuming, waiting for him to say something. And he took his time, brushing off the nonexistent layer of dirt.  “I know. And I always knew, but it's easy to forget that you’re not just a baby-faced adult. No thirteen-year-old that I know can create potions that actually work,” Severus frowned deeper than I ever saw him. “Or make professional-grade rune circles. Or keep up with Poppy when she talks about recent medical discoveries. It just… hit me.”

“Unlike my cauldron.” I am still angry he was quick enough to evade that death.

“Unlike your cauldron,” he snorted. “And I’m not the only one - Minerva might hide it better as she is much more competent in human-to-human interaction, but she told me she grew a tendency to baby you.”

“She does feed me more cookies than usually…”